


Free Day

by ab2fsycho



Series: Why is Tea Always Gone [8]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: BlackIce Week, Just smut, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Pure Smut, depends on how you like your smut, perfect smut, shut up alex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 23:17:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ab2fsycho/pseuds/ab2fsycho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prompt fill for Blackice Week. It was a free day, so Pitch and Jack get some time off from being . . . well . . . they get some time off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ObsidianLace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsidianLace/gifts).



> Sid was the one who said they needed some private time, and that is why you're getting smut. So thank you Sid.

They were rarely ever alone anymore. So when Pitch found his Jack leaning against a particular wall while they had the lair to themselves, he felt a devious smile play upon his lips. “Hmmm,” he hummed, appearing before the winter spirit out of the shadows. Jack didn’t even flinch. “This is a familiar scene.”

Jack’s lips pulled back to reveal a mischievous grin of his own. “Oh is it, now?”

Of course it was. It was against this wall Pitch had first trapped Jack. It was against this wall Pitch had tied Jack in an attempt to scare him. It was against this wall Pitch had begun to ravage Jack Frost and claim him for his own.

The very thought of that day made Pitch’s smile widen to the point where his sharp teeth seemed sharper. He felt a playful spark light within him as he stepped closer to Jack. The Guardian faced him, his back flush against the wall as Pitch drew nearer. When Pitch’s nose was inches from Jack’s, he placed his hands on either side of Jack’s head, leaning on the wall and caging the boy. Jack struggled to maintain his composure before the Nightmare King, but his breathing was already uneven. His pupils were already dilating. The only thing Pitch needed to do now was touch him. His own breath stuttered at the thought of the way Jack sounded when Pitch played him like an instrument. Before Pitch’s lips touched Jack’s though, he found himself whispering, “You’re mine.”

Jack released a gasp, which made Pitch want to kiss him more. It was Jack’s response that did him in. “Prove it.”

Challenge accepted, Pitch thought. Instead of pressing his lips to Jack’s, he dipped his head down to the Guardian’s neck and seized the sensitive flesh with his teeth. He’d long given up hiding these bites in places that could be covered for Jack’s sake. He wanted people to see evidence of his presence in the winter spirit’s life. If he hadn’t, Jack would not be wearing that locket.

Jack cried out at the bite, his body arching against Pitch’s as the Boogeyman’s arms slithered around the boy’s waist and lifted him just high enough off the ground for him to gain more access to Jack’s flesh without getting a crick in his neck. The gasps Jack unleashed only made him bite harder. He became more vocal as Pitch began tasting blood. As soon as the red liquid hit his tongue, he withdrew his teeth and ran his tongue over the marks he’d left. Jack trembled before he melted against Pitch, his hands that were once fisted in Pitch’s robes going slack as he fought to catch his breath. As Pitch sucked the wound, he pressed Jack into the wall, grinding his hips against Jack’s the slightest bit so the winter spirit was aware of the Nightmare King’s hardness. Jack’s gasps grew in frequency at that. Pitch couldn’t help but utter against Jack’s neck, “Believe me yet?”

Jack managed, “Still not convinced.”

Oh, Pitch thought. Oh, he wanted to play rougher. Well if it was going to be like that . . . .

First, Pitch set him down. Then, he proceeded to jerk Jack’s hoodie over his head. With the locket being the only thing left to resemble coverage of Jack’s torso, Pitch spun the boy about and pressed his chest against the wall. In a flurry of movement, Pitch raked his nails down Jack’s back. That forced a glorious cry from the winter spirit, whose hips jumped backwards into Pitch’s. The Guardian’s hands remained on the wall as he angled himself downward, just begging Pitch to do more. Marking his back further, Pitch found himself arching over the boy’s back and tracing openmouthed kisses over the red welts. “I could use my talons,” he mouthed against Jack’s skin.

“Uhn . . . is this all you’ve got?”

“Eager to bleed, are we?” Pitch growled into Jack’s back, the boy shivering as Pitch’s claws lengthened. When he dragged the sharp points over Jack’s back, the Guardian’s screams were delicious. The blood was even more delicious as he lapped at the wounds he left. And with Jack’s arse pressed to his groin, Pitch couldn’t help but growl more and grind his hips into Jack. Raking his claws over Jack once more, he pressed his lips to the boy’s ear and uttered, “Take those trousers off or I’ll be forced to tear them open.” Pitch didn’t think it were possible for Jack to move so quickly without losing balance. Soon, the winter spirit was naked against him and Pitch just wanted to grab Jack by the hips and drive himself into him. But he didn’t. Instead of forcing his fingers into Jack’s mouth as he’d done many times, he decided it quicker to prepare his two longest digits himself. Once he’d wet his fingers he shoved them into Jack, wrenching a beautiful series of moans and gasps from the Guardian. Watching the blood trickle from the scratches on his back, Pitch thought it time to play back. “Say you’re mine.”

“No,” Jack argued.

Pitch’s brow quirked as he curved his fingers and moved faster, sure to hit Jack’s most sensitive spot. “Say it now,” Pitch ordered over Jack’s desperate cries.

Jack’s voice came out weak and high. “Not a chance.”

Pitch’s smile returned as he added a third finger and thrust harder. Jack was holding back screams, biting his lip. Pitch was ready to scream himself at the sight of Jack biting his own skin. “Say it,” he borderline shouted.

“Make me!” Jack retorted. Pitch ground his teeth before setting his jaw, the reached around with his free hand and began stroking Jack’s cock. The winter spirit unleashed his screams then. As Pitch thrust hard with one hand and stroked slow with the other, Jack’s body caved and shook until he gasped out, “I’m yours.”

Pitch didn’t let up, though. “Say it again.”

“Wha—?”

“Say it. Again!” Only then would he release Jack. Momentarily, that is.

“I’m yours,” Jack shouted.

That’s what Pitch wanted to hear. Letting Jack go, hands completely off of him, Jack leaned against the wall whimpering at the absence of touch. Pitch’s smile turned evil as he slipped out of his robe and trousers. When he too was naked, he turned Jack around to face him. Lifting the Guardian up by his thighs, one leg draped over Pitch’s shoulder, Pitch buried himself into Jack. Jack screamed again, precum dripping from his member as Pitch drove himself into him repeatedly. With each thrust, Pitch could think of only one word: mine. Mine, all mine, he thought as he captured Jack’s lips with his at last. Jack returned the kiss eagerly, his nails digging into Pitch’s shoulders and arms. The pain only made him thrust faster, pulling gorgeous noises from Jack the closer they came to release.

Jack came first, shivering and groaning as Pitch continued to thrust throughout his orgasm. When Pitch found his release, it took everything he had not to collapse with Jack on top of him. Leaning into the wall and holding Jack up with his weight, Pitch continued kissing his winter spirit. The Guardian was still shaking, almost completely limp in the arms of the Nightmare King. Pitch didn’t stop kissing him until his lips were sore and likely bruised.

As Pitch pulled back, he whispered, “Have you learned your lesson?”

Jack’s lips pulled back to reveal a smirk. “I might need some tutoring later.”

“You little shit,” Pitch grumbled before he realized the words were fleeing his mouth. Jack’s eyes shot open as he fought to stifle laughter. Pitch wanted to glare, but just couldn’t find it in him. “Keep laughing. Next time I’ll take you upside down on the ceiling above our bed.”

“Ooh,” Jack breathed, his laughter ceasing but the mirth not entirely gone. “Now that I’d like to see.”

“You’ll regret it.”

“Promise?”

Up until that point, Pitch had been questioning the plausibility of following through with the threat. With the look Jack was giving him right then, he decided he’d just have to get creative.


End file.
